


Starstruck

by ladramaticoentrance



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladramaticoentrance/pseuds/ladramaticoentrance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this reporter's case, there was at least one perk to working for GeneCo that had recently manifested itself on its knees, and into the scope of his video camera, staring up at him with a coy smirk on a stranger’s painted lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starstruck

**Author's Note:**

> Pavi giving that really gay reporter played by J. LaRose a blowjob. That's pretty much it.

Being a reporter didn’t come with many perks – especially when your media was catered to a biased market. There were constant threats to one’s job for using the wrong adjective to describe a celebrity or asking the wrong sort of questions. Not to mention the normal risks that went along with journalism, like the occasional punch in the face or car bomb from an unhappily ruined public figure.  


But in Daemon Wolfe’s case, there was at least one perk that had recently manifested itself on its knees, and into the scope of his video camera, staring up at him with a coy smirk on a stranger’s painted lips.  


Daemon had always enjoyed the Largo family. Working for GeneCo had its problems, obviously, but the family seemed to make it worth the tribulation for him. Fascinated by the world’s most powerful business man from an early age, the mere desire to come close to such a charismatic family had led him to working for the company. That, and he’d always wanted to be something akin to famous.  


Surprisingly, Daemon’s fascination with the GeneCo family had far from dwindled when he’d finally met them; if anything, it had grown into an obsession. He adored interviewing each of them, each time on the edge of his chair with the fixation of a child. There was of course Rotti Largo, planning and expertise in every movement he made, with a gaze that could silence a room. _Power._ The eldest son, Luigi Largo, dangerous and fiery. If he had his way when it came to interviewing this one, it would only be behind six inches of glass - and he’d be pressed as close as he could get regardless. _Passionate._ And of course, the ever popular Amber Sweet, who changed her skin like other people changed clothes. Each time he interviewed her felt like he was speaking to a different person – though each seemed just as stunning as the last. _Iconic_.  


But then there was the middle child, who was by far Daemon’s favorite. Pavi Largo, with a charming, stolen smile and an accent nearly as alluring as his attitude, had been Daemon’s heart’s desire since the once shy Largo child had exploded into the witty playboy who loved to spend his father’s money and break his fans’ hearts.  


There was only one word that described Paviche Largo in Daemon’s book: _**Perfection.**_  


Out of all the Largos, Pavi was easily the most intriguing. Daemon had begun “subtly” transitioning his wardrobe to a similar style to the popular Casanova in college, as well as his accent (who cared if he was American and raised on the remains of a Navajo reservation, European accents were in). He’d bought posters, attended the Opera every night to see him perform, and had fallen for him time and time again behind a screen.  
But he’d never gotten an interview.  


Pavi was as allusive as he was charming; he loved attention, it would seem, but never when it was personal. Sure, he would talk about himself on camera for hours, but only when he was controlling the questions. And usually, his interviewers were pretty interns that melted like putty into Pavi’s fingers, both figuratively and literally. _Oh, what he wouldn’t give for the chance to be either._  
But never would Daemon have expected that his first interview with Paviche would also turn into his first sex tape.  


He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, quite honestly. One minute he was having a drink at a moderately popular bar; the next, Pavi Largo was sitting beside him and giving him the eye. Casual flirting had turned to casual groping, and before he knew it they were parked inside an empty garage, his camera equipment hauled out of the back of his van and perched on his shoulder as the heir to GeneCo worked on unbuttoning his trousers.  


“First time with a man?” Pavi questioned, directing the question at the reporter’s protruding jeans. Daemon swore that he could hear a smirk in his tone.  


“Are you kidding?” He replied, struggling to find his tongue. Far from it. He’d never tried to fool himself; he was gayer than the eldest Largo pretended not to be, and his attitude alone suggested he knew how to work it to his advantage when it came to hook ups. “Not in the slightest.”  


Pavi chuckled, looking back up at him with a cocky expression. “You...seem a bit’a nervous is all.”  


That erased his smirk. _Damn you, he thinks you’re a virgin, you twit._ And why shouldn’t he? He was acting like a previously heterosexual frat boy experimenting for the first time. Where was his wit, his charm? The grace and tact that only a journalist or a millionaire could grasp?  


Hell, Pavi was the one he’d began immolating it from.  


He cleared his throat. “Whose interview is this, yours or mine-“ His retort was cut off by a little gasp as he felt Pavi’s breath against his abdomen, finally having succeeded in unzipping his pants. Thank god he’d worn decent underwear today – tight-fitting black briefs with a lace trim, and a tiny red bow for a touch of feminity. Pavi only grinned, eying him with a cool, knowing gaze.  


Hoping that he was pleased by what he saw, Daemon smirked right back, fighting the urge to blush and turn with great difficulty.  
“

You tell me, Daemon,” Pavi purred, gloved hand rubbing over the bulge in the front of Daemon’s pants. His accent made the name sound more like “Dame-ee-on,” and the slight drag to his tone had a chilling effect on the reporter.  
Pavi’s gaze flickered briefly to the camera scope, and back at Daemon’s face, a bit of a sternness to his expression. “Whatever you catch on’a that thing, keep it to’a yourself. I don’t want’a this getting out to’a my father, si?” Despite the firmness to his tone, Daemon had the feeling that the playboy was far less opposed to the thought of exposure than he let on.  


Deciding to let that decision come later, he only nodded, shifting the weight of the camera higher up on his shoulder, positioning the scope right on Pavi’s face. The Largo had returned his attention back to his previous task, that same discerning grin as before stretched across his stolen face.  


Daemon held back a moan as Pavi pushed his briefs to the side, freeing his erection. One hand held Daemon’s leg steady, and the other began to tease. Leathered fingertips brushed against the underside of his cock, lifting it to his lips and placing a chaste peck at the tip. That time, Daemon did make a noise of frustration, the camera shaking for a moment as he struggled to keep himself together.  


Pavi giggled. This was going to be amusing, he could tell.  


“You’ve’a been asking for an interview from me for a long’a time, si?”  


The question brought him back down to earth for a moment. “S-Since I started working for your family, signore.”  


A pleased smile brightened Pavi’s eyes. “Why is’a that, I wonder?”  


Slowly coiling his fingers around the shaft, he started to pump. The slow steadiness was insane, and Daemon bit his lip to keep his shudders quiet. Struggling to hold the camera still on his shoulder, he focused his attention through the lens, catching Pavi’s amused expression as he glanced up at him.  


“…you are infatuated with’a the Pavi.”  


It wasn’t a question. It was fact. Pavi knew it, and there was no convincing him otherwise, that much Daemon could tell. All he could do now was continue to stroke his ego.  


“…more like obsessed, Signore.”  


The deeper pump he felt on his cock reassured him that he’d said the right thing. He let out a moan, completely unabashed now as Pavi continued to toy with him.  


“Obviously,” he cooed, the lips of his mask brushing the tip of his cock once more. “But you never gave’a me your answer, Daemon…whose interview is’a this? Yours…” He held the other’s cock steady in one hand, his tongue darted over the head, tasting a dribble of precum with yet another smirk. "Or mine~?"  


Without waiting for an answer, Pavi’s lips enveloped Daemon’s member, sliding over the full length of his shaft. Daemon responded with a pleased mewl, a shudder working its way through his torso at the pulsing sensations. Under normal circumstances, he might have reached down to grab the back of his partner’s head, but he was busy holding the camera…and despite the circumstances, it would have felt rude. Reporters should always treat their clients with respect, after all.  
The camera, meanwhile, was beginning to grow heavy on his shoulder. Shifting his weight slightly, Pavi glanced up at the lens, grinning around the length of his cock as he continued to bob his head back and forth. The way he kept looking up at the camera so confidently was so enamoring, he thought. Daemon had never been much of an exhibitionist, but he was beginning to think that Pavi Largo was one.  


He was beginning to see the appeal.  


Explicit sounds filled the garage, wet, naughty sounds reverberating off the metal walls. Pavi seemed to be taking his own sweet time, going about the act as casually as possible. He’d clearly done this before – not that that was any surprise to Daemon. Rumors of the middle Largo’s insatiable desires were well known across Sanitarium. One could only assume that the effeminate man with a penchant for beauty and tight-fitting clothing would be into men.  


Daemon’s breath was beginning to pitch uncontrollably. The camera, as a result was beginning to shake, much to the apparent annoyance of his subject. Pavi pulled away from the other’s member, now leaking profusely, frowning condescendingly.  
“Hold’a that still. The Pavi wants always to look good on’a film, si?”  


Daemon nodded quickly, stiffening his arms to bear the weight of the heavy camera. Anything to get him to continue for just a little longer. Normally Daemon would have lasted much longer (or at least, he’d like to think he would have), but under the circumstances, he was finding it harder to hold back. Something about getting a blowjob from your long time idol tended to do that to a person.  


Once the camera was back in sight, Pavi happily continued, employing the use of his hand as well as his mouth now. His tongue traced patterns over the head of Daemon’s cock, teasing him further and further towards his climax. Daemon could only groan, struggling to hold the camera as a cramp began to shoot up his arm. But oh, it was such a sweet pain that tickled his senses as Pavi’s expert motions continued to finish him off.  


_But whose interview is this?_  


He'd never given him an answer. This was perhaps his only chance at being alone with Pavi Largo and a camera, and even if the question had been in jest, it was still one worth examining. So far, every question had been from Pavi…and he was the one with a cock in his mouth. And that was just plain bad journalism, in anyone’s book.  


But if he were going to ask something, he needed to make it fast.  


Luckily, there was only one question he had in mind.  


Swallowing another shudder, Daemon stared into the camera’s eyepiece, zooming in on Pavi Largo’s face. Seeing the playboy practically worshipping his member at such a close angle nearly sent him over the edge right there, but he managed to grunt out a single question, giving way to his orgasm on the final syllable.  


“…what _are_ you _?!_ ”  


With a smile, Pavi stared back up at the camera, licking the dripping substance Daemon had spilled all over his face from his cheek. With sunken eyes that forced you to stare back, Pavi gave the camera a fierce stare.  


“ **Sex.** ” 

\---

When it was all over, Daemon had returned shakily back to his apartment, leaving Pavi behind to call for his limo. He’d offered the man a ride, but he’d only smirked and gave a polite refusal, preferring to return home alone to avoid questions from his father.  
Daemon, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than a cold shower and a warm bed. Alone. He needed to be up early the next morning, although it was his day off. Seems that he had an important phone call to make to a new client. Future Face magazine would certainly be interested to know that their favorite celebrity was involved in a sex tape – and that he had access to it.  


He’d always wanted to be something akin to famous.


End file.
